


Fuck You, Ernest Hemingway

by Lower_your_standards



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Because Ernest Hemingway said every first draft is shit, Cliffhangers, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Everything in this book is just pure improv, I am not taking credit for the title, I'm not actually sure, One Shot Collection, Or he might not have said that, Randy Writes A Novel, Randy buys a book off gumtree, There was no planning or editing, do that, if you haven't watched it, or specifically, the title is based on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25962352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lower_your_standards/pseuds/Lower_your_standards
Summary: First draft stories based on texts I sent my friends at unholy hours of the night. And using the idea from Randy Buys a Bookshelf off of Gumtree. Each one is equally idiotic, so don't expect anything grand. Actually, lower your standards.Ernest Hemingway once said that every first draft is inherently bad. So. Fuck that guy.
Relationships: Protagonist/My Own Stupid Ideas
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	Fuck You, Ernest Hemingway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing's illegal if you're on the moon. 
> 
> Unless?
> 
> Follow the adventures of the dumbass protagonist on their adventure on the moon? 
> 
> Look. I don't know either.

I had finally made it. I was here. After all that work, illegal activities and stowing away. I had reached the moon.

This was the greatest moment of my life. I’m sure of it. I could see into the infinite expanse that was space and I could see into the nothingness that hid everything.

The best part was I could see the world. I get to see everything. All the lights, all the oceans, everywhere I had never been was right there, millions and millions of miles below me.

And, bonus. They don’t know I’m here. So they can’t find me, and crime does not apply to me. I am free from the law. I could do anything and no one would be able to take me in.

I am the king of this rock and no one can stop me.

I walk around this rock and take in everything I can. This spacesuit wasn’t the greatest quality, since I stole it. But it did the job.

I threw a few rocks and watched them float towards earth. After some contemplating I decided that I’m going to shoot some rocks and try to aim for certain countries. Because. Boredom has already hit me.

Nothing could possibly go wrong there. It’s the moon, baby. I can do anything I want.

But before I could launch the first rock. The intercom on my suit acted up. And it started crackling, like someone was trying to make a connection.

I stopped and listened but it stopped after a few seconds.

No one knows I’m here. Right? So who was that? Am I picking someone’s radio signal up? I didn’t think radio went up this high. Maybe I’ll get some tunes if I go to the nearest point near earth. But I’ll do that later.

Putting that behind me, I mean, what’s the point in worrying when you’re on the fucking moon, right?

I take the rock and I place it on a groove in the ground.

I then run, or at least as fast I could in no gravity, about 16 metres back. I look at the rock and then I begin to run, once again, as fast as gravity will allow, which really isn’t that fast, and I kick the rock as hard as I could .

It barely budged. So there goes my ego. I punched the rock as it floated near my head and it slowly floated away from me, just to rub in my sad and pathetic abilities. It spun slightly, and I’m pretty sure that’s the only thing I managed accomplished.

No one could see me, but I still felt the need to make up for this firsthand embarrassment.

So naturally I Just started throwing more rocks. Which. All that led to was a bunch of rocks floating around my head. Which is probably a serious hazard now that I think about it.

Eventually I gave up and just, started walking to east. Or at least, I think it’s east. I could barely tell this when I was on the planet where these things actually applied. So, I probably know fuck all.

I occasionally found more rocks to kick, which did nothing because gravity always wins. Especially when gravity isn’t even there.

But The walking part was fun.

My oxygen tank was at around 85% so I was still safe, but I should probably keep wary of that. It might be wrong since this is like the no name brand version of a spacesuit. And my breathing was already so loud inside this fishbowl for a helmet that if I didn’t pay attention to the oxygen levels, I’d, frankly, be an imbecile.

After being here for a solid half an hour. I have realized something.

Holy Shit, this is boring.

You’d think the moon would be. Fun?? I mean, I’m literally on the moon for Christ’s sake!

Should I have brought, games or something?? The concept is was more interesting than actually being here.

Yeah no crimes, and that’s cool! But there’s also just. Nothing.

I’m alone.

It’s just empty.

There’s nothing.

Well, Might as well deface the American flag while I’m here.

And that’s what I decided to do.

I walked in the direction of the famous moon landing, which definitely wasn’t faked, fuck you.

And I saw it. The flag. It looked, so goddamn stupid just frozen there.

Who thought was a good idea?

And America? Gross. Jesus, they don’t own claim on the moon. I have a right to have dual citizenship, drink at 18, not be killed for my race, gender or sexually, free healthcare.

Why? Because I’m on the moon, moron. And you have more freedom stuck on this rock in space. Then you do living in the us of a.

What do deface the flag with. Hm. How can I disrespect the president the most. Because obviously. That’s my goal.

While I’m thinking. My intercom static’s a g a i n . But this time I can hear some weird old timey music? Like record player jazz. It does on for a while.

Do I. Say something? If this is someone trying to make contact with me, do I reply and confirm to them that I’m here. Do I risk getting found?

It might be something. Supernatural? I don't know, it seems like the kind of thing that would be like that.

Weird ass transmission? From what appears to be the empty void that is space? With weird old music on a record player and creepy breathing?

Yeah, fuck that, if this is a space demon, I have to reply so I don’t have to deal with the wrath of whatever this is.

“Hello?”

I ask while pressing the speak button.

“Is someone there?”

Cliche, I know. But it gets right to the point.

But no one answers. There was a hard exhale from the other side. And then it just. Turns off.

Maybe it was the radio after all? Weird radio. But radio, nonetheless? But I don’t really see a satellite nearby that says radio on it.

But then again, I know nothing of satellites. As I am not a real astronaut. And I am a fraud.

So I guess I should. Ignore it again? I guess?

Okay. Yeah this is fine. I’m not freaking out. I’m just talking to myself after my intercom played jazz on a record player. And I totally didn’t hear someone breathing. That was absolutely in my head.

Nothing to panic over.

Maybe I should just go to closest point to earth to see if I get a better signal.

The defacing can wait. Right now, I might be in more danger than I already was.

So I walk. Again.

More rocks, more nothing and more silence.

Being here is slowly getting less exciting by the second

I slowly make my way across the poorly lit rocky plain.

On my way there I see something. Shiny? In the ground. It looks like, is that? A hatch? Who the hell put a hatch on the moon?

Does it lead to like. A bunker or something?

I wasn't aware the human race was advanced enough to do something like this.

What the hell could be in there?

Maybe I just. Knock? Can I even knock in space? Is that a thing? Whatever, I’m trying it.

I crouch down, and my oxygen level starts beeping to alert me that, shit, my levels are now at 15%. I need to get back to my stolen ship to get more.

I should do that.

I will do that.

But I'll knock first.

I knocked three times. I couldn’t hear anything. Because. I’m in space. And I don't know a lot about space travel since I'm a psych major. But I don't think sounds are that great on the moon. But if I wasn’t on the moon. I’d imagine it would echo quite a bit.

After a few seconds of absolutely nothing, the hatch swings open and I am sucked in with the vacuum of gravity and I land in a. Living room? An old fashioned living room. There’s a fire lit in the fireplace and everything. Which shouldn't be scientifically possible, but. whatever I guess. Anyways, all I can really process is,

What the hell is going on?

Just then, my intercom crackled to life for the final time. I could hear the jazz again in the background. But now, I could also hear the jazz coming from outside this room through my helmet.

I could also hear heavy footsteps that were walking in my direction.

Then, a deep voice with a thick new accent with a hint of Italian Spoke through my intercom.

“Bada bing. Bada boom.”

Oh,

I see.

I'm fucked.

It’s the moon mafia.

You want to know my favourite part of this story?

First draft.

F u c k y o u , E r n e s t H e m i n g w a y .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brain just told me 
> 
> "moon mafia" 
> 
> and that was it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope if it didn't make you cringe too hard. You got some humour out of it.


End file.
